


Trust

by schwertlilie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Asexuality, Gen, Kink Meme, Other, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-23
Updated: 2010-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day after their wedding, Austria finally tells Hungary he's asexual. Yeah, note the "after."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Kifli and kipferl are Hungarian and Austrian croissant-like pastries, respectively.

Hungary woke alone in the canopied bed. She'd expected to have a lazy day in bed with her new husband; but then again this was _Austria_, and she thought she shouldn't really be surprised. Ah well, time to go find him, maybe convince him that sex on a piano would be a lovely idea. All that space and those strings to resonate their moans... Humming to herself, she pulled on her shift and dressing gown, and padded out the door.

She followed the sound of a piano down to the music room, watched from the doorway. Austria had, of course, gotten completely dressed, the only things missing the gloves he had left on the music stand. He moved with the music, rocking forward and pulling back, and Hungary knew his eyes would be closed. He preferred to play bare-handed - it brought him closer to the music, he'd said once. She'd never heard this piece before; either it was new or he was noodling around again.

She waited, listened. When the music swirled to a close she stepped into the room, smiling. "That was beautiful," she said when he looked at her.

"I'll have to tune it again, I think Prussia was banging about on it yesterday." He smiled, a little strained, and beckoned her closer.

"What is it?" She sat on the chair beside the piano.

"Now that our marriage has been consummated, I believe that I have fulfilled my matrimonial duties. I realise that you have certain.. needs, which I do not share, and I will turn a blind eye to any.. relief you seek beyond our marriage. I only ask that you be discreet."

She blinked, took a moment to try and parse his speech; just like Austria, to turn to formality when he was uncomfortable. "What do you mean, exactly?"

He shifted. "That I am not interested in sex, that you are, and I will not be fulfilling those needs."

"You were interested last night."

"Last night was duty, nothing more."

Without thinking she reached out and slapped him across the face. "You _bastard_. And you couldn't have told me this months ago? _Centuries?_"

"I didn't want to jeopardise the political union." His fists clenched against his legs, cheek turning an angry red. "The futures of Austria and Hungary are more important than the feelings of Roderich and Elizabeta."

"And where would Roderich be happy? Under Gilbert?" Which was an image, but not one she wanted if she couldn't be a part of it.

"NO." A deep breath. "This isn't personal, Hungary. I'm not interested sexually in anyone - male, female, or other. "

She just looked at him.

He reached out slowly, as if she were a skittish horse, and took her hand. "You're a beautiful woman, and strong, and I love that you never gave up on yourself or your people. I want you and our people to be happy, and if that means bending our marriage vows I'll bend them. Tell me when and where, and I will help with the arrangements. Just.. please don't ask me to do more than sleep in our bed." He stood, hesitated. "I arranged for breakfast in the sitting room. If you would care to join me, I..."

Her lips tugged downward - was he trying to apologise for lying to her by omission, for not trusting her? - but she took his arm, willing to let matters go. For now. "Has your cook learned to make a proper kifli yet? His kipferl aren't bad, but there's nothing quite like a kifli sandwich in the morning."

"Shall we go see?"

"Let's."

~ ~ ~

_One Year Later_

"Oi Princess, d'ya think your wife'll let me fuck you over your precious piano bench? It'd make a good show for your anniversary."

Austria didn't bother replying, as Hungary's frying pan flew through the air and slammed into Prussia's face.

"... The fuck was that for?"

Hungary picked up her pan, wiped the edge. "Being an idiot."

Austria touched her hand, and they smiled at each other. Others might have considered Hungary to be protecting her husband's virtue, eliminating the need for him to soil his hands by hitting Prussia, but the two of them knew better: it was simply looking out for a friend.


End file.
